The First Time
by WelshClaire
Summary: Harry, now in old age, looks back on many first's he shared with Nikki. Inspired by "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face"


**So this came to me late last night - or rather very early this morning, when I was trying to write pinkswallowsun's birthday fic. I had my music on shuffle and Alfie Boe's version of The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face came on. Had to stop writing that fic and get this down. 2 sentences into it I was crying, and at quite a few other points I did too, so yea, definite tissue warning for this...sorry. Please don't hate me too much!**

**Bits in italics are Harry's memories - I don't really like reading stuff in italics, so apologies if anyone else is like that too, but I didn't want to break it up in any other way :/**

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He sat beside her bed, her small unresponsive hand encased in his larger ones, watching her die. He'd known this day would come, and while he never wanted to be without her, they'd lived their lives, their children were grown up, and they'd grown old together. Now she was slipping away from him peacefully, at their home, her family around her. He fixed his eyes on her closed ones, willing them to open one more time before he lost her forever.

_He thought back to the first time he ever saw her, at his desk at work, studying some old bones and a facial reconstruction she'd just completed. Her blonde hair tied up exposing her neck, that neck he grew to love to kiss so much, her brown eyes smiling at him when she saw him, her mouth breaking into a smile as she introduced herself. That orange shirt, an insane colour that so few people could pull off wearing – himself included he thought, a now rare smile gracing his face – but she did, he was drawn in by her beauty from that moment, and had hoped straight away that one day he'd be able to call her his wife. 8 years later, he could, and still could now, 45 years after that._

He was brought back from reminiscing by her hand twitching in his. He shook himself out of his thoughts, calling her name softly. Nothing. He checked her pulse, slowing all the time he noticed. He looked back up at her face, still beautiful even though she was in her last minutes of life, and had clearly aged from when he met her, her then blonde hair now almost white. He thanked her daily for loving him, and allowing him to love her.

_He pressed a kiss to her lips, remembering the first time he'd done that, a pub when they'd escaped from a conference. He'd wanted to make that kiss so much more, he just had to hope she got from it how much she really meant to him...eventually she did but only after he'd been ranting at her about some case at work and blurted it out as a reason why he'd never leave the Lyell Centre. They'd both been there until they retired, and even then had regularly visited and kept in touch with their old colleagues._

_Considering how long it had taken them to get together, and how good they'd both been at one-night stands, it took them a surprising amount of time before they took that next step and made love to each other. He remembered it so well, he'd invited her round for dinner – as usual had burnt it, so they'd ordered a takeaway. Neither of them had drank much – since they'd got together, a lot less of their nights spent with each other had resulted in a raging hangover the following morning – so when she'd said she wanted more, he knew it wasn't the alcohol talking. He'd carried her from his living room into his bedroom, placing her in the centre of his bed before they'd stripped, and then made love into the early hours of the morning. Afterwards she'd rested her head on his bare chest, one arm slung over his waist, one of his over hers while the other tangled in her blonde hair. Before they'd fallen asleep she'd kissed him on the lips tenderly, whispering those three little words from deep down inside that they'd both been afraid of saying too soon, but suddenly seemed so important to say. "I love you." He'd replied saying the same, holding her close to him, his hand moving from her hair to her shoulder, squeezing her arm softly as they fell asleep._

He hoped that in her final moments, she was revisiting her life, her achievements, just as he was. Pregnancy, the proposal, the wedding, their honeymoon, more pregnancies. All of his memories about his life involved her. It was as if he hadn't lived before he knew her, he remembered so little of it. Everything he thought of, Nikki was there, as if she'd always been by his side. From the moment they met, she almost was. Now she was being taken away from him. He didn't want to live a day without her, but was grateful she'd lived having him always by her side. He hadn't ever wanted to leave her, but now he was having to say goodbye, having to live a life without the woman who meant everything to him and had been his first and last thought of every day – and many more between whilst both awake and sleeping.

_Until her, he hadn't been sure he wanted children of his own. She'd felt the same, he'd learnt one day...the day she told him she was pregnant. They were so excited, scared, nervous...but mostly excited. Nikki had helped him realise he wouldn't be like his own father, distant and unloving then abandoning his family, helped him realise that he could make sure he'd be different. He'd known he could never abandon Nikki, let alone any children they would have, but still the fears of turning into his father plagued him. 7 months later, she'd given birth to their son, 3 weeks premature but he was perfect. Their son, their beautiful little boy. They'd both cried, partly from the overwhelming emotion and partly from exhaustion – she'd been in labour for almost 30 hours._

_He'd proposed 5 months later, the ring hidden in his son's hand which was held in his own as he crouched in front of her. There'd been no hesitation from her once she'd got over the initial shock of it, not needing to think about her answer. She loved this man more than she'd ever thought possible, had a child with him, wanted more and wanted to grow old with him. Their son had once again held their rings when they got married a year later, by which time she was pregnant again – not that they knew it yet._

He raised his hands to his lips, exposing hers, pressing a kiss to it softly, wanting to feel her skin against his again. He wanted her back, wanted to laugh with her, cry with her, make love with her one last time before she left him. He moved her hand back to lie beside her on the bed, one of his resting on top of it softly, the other wiping tears from his eyes as he repositioned his fingers to take her pulse again. So faint he could barely feel it. He took a deep breath, turning to face the mass of younger adults gathered around her bed – their 5 children and their partners. He nodded softly, finally, struggling to look at any of them, but forcing himself to before he fixed his eyes upon hers, refusing to look at anything else until she passed.

Seconds, maybe minutes later – he didn't know, however long it was, it was all too soon - her eyes flickered open briefly, his name falling from her lips a mere whisper he struggled to hear but knew was there. She used her remaining energy to lift her hand from underneath his, placing it on his cheek, her thumb stroking his skin as she took her final breaths. He placed his hand over hers keeping it there as her eyes closed for the final time, a loud sob escaping his mouth as her heart finally stopped and her laboured breathing drew to a close. He felt hands on him as their children attempted to comfort him in his grief. There was nothing they could do. His wife, his love, his Nikki was gone. Gone forever.

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**Sorry! I'd told myself I wasn't going to kill anyone again, and had initially planned on this just being Harry's memories of their life when they were both old, but still healthy and alive...clearly that didn't happen! **

**Hopefully I'll go back to fluff/smut and no deaths very shortly!**

**Reviews are loved and appreciated as always **

**C x**


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